Remember When?
by KendraxCrane
Summary: The tale of how Jack became the Joker. How Bruce Wayne played a big role. And how love could easily turn to hate. and one drunken night can end in the death of someone and the birth of someone else. 'M', I suck at summarys. Slash. Flames eww.


Disclaimer: I own no Batman characters.

A/N: I was reading a totally depressing fic, and this just popped into my head.

Enjoy :D

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I pull my car into the mansion driveway. The garage door opens up for me, I drive in and turn my car off. I look at my watch, 12:00, shit. I'm late, Bruce won't be happy. But maybe if I sneak in- "Jack!" _Shit, shit, shit! _Bruce is awake, and storming out of the house, assorted drink in hand.

I get out of the car, apologetic smile on my face. "I'm sorry baby, some of the files had to be checked, the transcripts written up-" He smacks my face. "Don't give me your bull shit stories, you know we had a benefit dinner tonight. Now, thanks to your fucking bull shit, the companies going to loose one of they're biggest clients! You really fucked up, Jack! I should just kill you right now." Bruce spat at my feet.

"Baby, I'm so sorry, I didn't think-"

"Thats right, you didn't think. What do you have to say for yourself, _Jack_." Bruce through the drink(Cocktail) at my face. The alcohol burned my eyes, I automatically shut them. Tears coming to my eyes, running down my face.

Bruce grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into the house. The garage joining into the kitchen. Bruce through me across the floor, I slid and hit the wall.

Bruce kicks me in the back, the pain shoots up my spine. I try to get up, but he kicks me again. I slump over, my mouth trickles blood. "B-Bruce, I'm sorry, p-please stop this."

I plead to no avail. He grabs my hair and lifts me to my knees. He makes me look at him. "You're _sorry, _Jack is _sorry_. Well, sorry just won't cut it anymore, baby. Ya' know, I think some punishment is in order." He hoists me up onto my feet, all by my hair.

He slams is mouth onto mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth. I do the only thing I can think of. I bite. Hard. He immediately pules back and puts his hand over his bloody mouth.

I take the advantage and lunge for the meat cleaver, grabbing the end and flinging it at Bruce. It hits him in the leg, affectively immobilizing him. He screams, clasping on the kitchen floor.

Sobs start to wreck my body. Though he is trying to kill me, I love the man in front of me. And I don't want to see him hurt. But it's either kill or be killed. That's what my Momma taught me.

Bruce is sobbing to. "Jack!" He cries my name, I stare at him. He's clutching his leg, I see something flash through his eyes. And he's smiling.

He slowly wrenches the cleaver out of his leg. He looks back at me, his eyes glow under his ruffled hair. "Jackie... I thought I taught you better then that...." He says, I start to get to my feet, but he grabs my pant leg and I fall.

I try to claw my way away from him. But he pulls me back. "Alfred!" I yell, though I know Alfred is on the other side of the mansion.

"Oh, you think he's going to help you?" Bruce's voice held nothing but evil. That's how he got when he drank. Everyone close to him knew it. Rachel was the only one who played dumb about it.

But I know he had smacked her around a few times. Bruce flipped me over and stared down at me. He was on all fours, me laying underneath him. This position usually held great lust and satisfaction for me. But now all I felt was fear.

"Awww, Jackie... You're not smiling, why not? I thought I made you smile?" He kissed me again, softer this time. Maybe if I play along, he'll let me life. I kissed back, and slipped my arms around his neck.

He moaned. Pulling my shirt tails out and slipping his hand up my torso. I could feel the cold metal of the cleaver against my nipples. Making them hard within seconds.

He abruptly stopped kissing me and slid the cleaver in my mouth. It's shear size not fitting all the way in. "C'mon Jackie, give your favorite boy a smile, please?" Bruce's eyes took on the puppy dog quality.

So I gave a weak smile around the cold steal. "There it is, my baby boy's signature smile.... Ya' know, I'd like to see that smile every time I look at you. How about it, Jack? Permanent?"

I could feel my eyes visibly widen, I tried shaking my head. "No, no, Bruce, please, no!" I sobbed, the tears streaming down my face. My eyeliner smudging, the black shit Bruce insisted I wear.

"Yes, oh baby, shhh. It's going to be okay, just look at me." Bruce crooned. I looked into his otherwise friendly chocolate brown eyes. The ones that use to melt away my fears, now they just gave me terror.

He started to sing in that language I could never understand.

"Et stille skrig, der falmer hen. Et roigt smil, der skinner op igen. Glemmer alt, der fylder mig med had. Og maerker mine minder ta' afsted..."

I could feel my flesh ripping, my cheek burning in white hot pain. It felt like it went on forever. When he started the next one, I thought I was dying. I could feel blood fill my mouth.

Bruce was singing again. "A silent scream that fades away. A calm smile that is shining up again. Forgetting everything and filling me with hatred, and feeling my memories departing I..."

Then, I blacked out.

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Turns out Bruce sobered up after a few hours, at least enough to call 911. I figure he has no recollection as to what happened that night. I'll never tell him, but I silently will never let him forget, either.

I left the hospital after one of his visits. I checked myself out and told Nurse Sadie not to tell Bruce were I was going. I figured I had to get as far away from Gotham as I could. For a few years, at least.

I'd come back, when he'd least expect me.

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6 years later

_Bruce P.O.V_

I wake up around 8:00, just in time for Alfred's coffee and home made breakfast. I jump out of the shower and dry off. I stare at the sobriety button on my pin stripe blazer. 5 1/2 years of being clean. The anniversary is today, and I know Alfred has something special in mind.

I fly down the stairs with extra energy. Having not been out a few nights as your alter ego can do shit to a guy. "Why, good morning Master Bruce." Alfred chimes. "And what a good morning it is." I reply. Alfred's expression turns rather grim. "I think there is something you need to see." He says. I feel a bit weary and confused, but follow him to the living room.

He flicks on the t.v. Susan Hawks of the morning news flashes onto the t.v. "As we have been reporting all morning, there has been a break in at Gotham City Banks. By a man who calls himself the Joker."

Time stops, my heart starts pounding in my ears, and I flash back to 7 years ago.

_"If you ever had to be a villain, what would you call yourself?" I asked Jack. We had been playing our game only me and him play. The name game. "I don't know... Something colorful, memorable, catchy..."_ _He muses, I grin and kiss him. "How about... The Joker?" I suggest. He smiles his signature grin. _

_"Thats perfect! So, if you ever catch a bank robber by the name of the Joker, you'll know its the guy you're sleeping with." We laugh and kiss again._

"No... I-it can't be him..." I stumble over the couch as I run up to my bedroom. I flip on my computer prints and photo scanner. I hook it up to the t.v and feed the Joker's photo into my machine. The data pops up.

Name: Jackson Andrew Naiper

D.O.B: April 7 1979(age 28)

Height: 6'1

Weight: 155

Hair color: Blonde

Eye color: Hazel.

Alfred glances over my shoulder and looks at me with the most grim expression I've ever seen. "It's really him..." Alfred muses. I nod my head. "He's really back..."

_Shit._

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A/N: This is seriously just a oneshot. :] 


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